Most nights I would wonder if I would ever see him again. I would pull his Misfits sweater over my head, or would look through the photos of us together that we had taken before he had left.
He would send the occasional letter, but not as often as I would have wanted. I just needed to keep in mind that he was trying his best to keep in contact, because I know how hard that must be.
On a Saturday morning, a week before he had left, I had heard a strong knock on the wooden front door to my house. I slid into my slippers and put a hoodie over my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt (I had told nobody that I had bought it from the kids section) and tiptoed downstairs towards the door.
I turned the handle to reveal my boyfriend, Michael Clifford, with a huge smile plastered on his face, and it was as if he couldn't frown even if he tried. His hair was a bright green colour, and he was wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt and black skinny jeans as always. He was holding something in his left hand, but I couldn't tell what it was.
"Tara!" He squealed as he put his long arms around me and squeezed me into a tight hug. Michael gave the best hugs. After a while he pulled away.
"How are you?" He half-whispered. He was looking straight into my eyes like he always did. Michael intertwined his fingers with mine. He was speaking as if we hadn't seen each other in forever, when in reality I had seen him two nights ago. "Better now that you're here," I spoke. He looked down at his shoes and chuckled. "What's that?" I gestured towards his left hand. Michael was just staring at me and smiling, and I couldn't even tell if he had heard me or not. "Oh right, this." He spoke, suddenly realizing what I had said. He placed the object in my hand. It was a little disposable camera. I looked up and smiled at Michael, slightly confused. "What is this for?" I giggled. Michael took the camera from my hands and pointed to the top where it said "27", meaning you could take up to 27 pictures. "We're going to make some memories today. 27 to be exact." He said. It was so Michael to do something cute and spontaneous like this. I couldn't help but hug him a second time. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he held his hands around my back. Michael smelled like he was wearing a little cologne. He always tried to be his best self for me, but he seemed different today. "Well," he exclaimed, "are we going or not?"
I glanced down at what I was wearing. Pink fuzzy slippers, pyjama shorts, a kids shirt, and a grey hoodie. "Shouldn't I go and change?" I laughed. Michael looked me up and down. "You can change if you want," he said, "but I think you look beautiful no matter what you wear."
That day was one of the best days in all of my 17 years. We went to the park, we shared ice cream, we watched a movie and shared a popcorn, and the whole day was like a typical montage scene in a cheesy romantic comedy. We took pictures the whole day, and by the time he walked me home, we had taken 26 photos.
Michael and I were hand in hand at 10:34 that Saturday night, walking down my street towards my house. The sky was a perfect shade of blue-black, and it felt like each star shined its brightest that night just for us. Michael was now wearing his black leather jacket. After a long period of silence, I looked over at Michael, who seemed to be in a deep train of thought.
"Michael," I said quietly, "what was today for?" Michael looked over at me and stopped walking to stand right in front of me. He lifted his hand to put my hair behind my ear and lightly kissed the top of my head. His face looked upset and distressed. What was wrong?
"Tara," he spoke. "I love you, you know that right?"
I didn't know what was going on. I just kept on nodding until I finally said, "Of course I do, I love you too, Mike." Michael sighed and managed to make himself smile just a little bit.
When we got to my front door, Michael asked if he could come inside. I was about to refuse, but then I remembered that my parents were at an anniversary party that would probably end late. As I searched my pocket for my key, I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye and heard a click.
"Hey!" I chuckled.
"And that was number 27." He smiled. He shoved the camera into his large pockets and I kissed him on the cheek.
I opened the door with my gold coloured key and we both stepped inside.
Michael untied his shoes placed them to the right of the door. He slowly walked through the hallway and sat down on my living room couch. I followed him and sat down right beside him. He put his arm around me and I nuzzled my head into his shoulder. Michael kept on stroking my hair until he finally broke the silence. "Tara," he said, "I need to tell you something."
I knew something was wrong. I was so worried, but I tried to be calm. "Ok, Michael," I said, "you can tell me." He turned to me and held both of my hands.
"Tara," he whispered, his voice shaking as he spoke.
"I-I've joined the army."
